


No Love Sincerer

by flammablehat



Series: Summerpornathon 2014 [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feeding Kink, Food Issues, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Hand Feeding, M/M, Team Gluttony, There's A Tag For That
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 09:37:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2145894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flammablehat/pseuds/flammablehat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Merlin saves Arthur from Lady Helen, instead of being honored with the role of his manservant, Uther makes him Arthur's food-taster instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Love Sincerer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Challenge 3 - _Trades and Professions_ of the 2014 season of Summer Pornathon. Title taken from the George Bernard Shaw quote, "There is no love sincerer than the love of food."

Arthur followed Uther out of the hall, still stripping cobwebs from his shoulders. 

“Father,” he said. “Please, this is embarrassing.” 

“Protecting your life is of far greater concern to me than protecting your pride,” Uther said. 

“But he looks as though a thimble of wine could knock him over!” Arthur gestured back toward the hall. Had his father even seen the boy? “What use could he possibly serve as my taster if his constitution is no match for mine?” 

Uther waved a hand, cutting him off. “That is exactly the point. A man more susceptible to slow-acting poisons only has more motivation to safeguard your food. He’s already saved your life despite great risk to himself.” He turned, gripping Arthur’s shoulder. “Men like that, no matter how frail, are worth keeping close.” 

Arthur bit back his complaints with a resentful sigh. 

☩

“You will be responsible for preparing my meals and sampling them before I eat. Anything I don’t finish you may have.”

Merlin looked skeptical. “So, my job is to eat your leftovers?”

“Your _job_ is to keep me from being poisoned.” 

“Can’t imagine why anyone would want to do that,” Merlin said. 

His trousers looked in danger of falling off his skinny hips, so Arthur gave his tone all the attention someone so ridiculous deserved. 

☩

“Not that I’m complaining—” Merlin began. Arthur rolled his eyes. “—but isn’t tasting something Morris could do?” He hefted the remains of Arthur’s dinner appraisingly. 

Arthur liked to order extra food during peak training season, but sometimes didn’t feel like eating it all. 

“Easier to replace the occasional taster than train a new manservant every time an attempt is made on my life,” Arthur said, grinning. Merlin narrowed his eyes, but he still took everything left on the tray. 

☩

Arthur regretted his flippancy after the Bayard incident. Merlin looked to be recovering well when Arthur checked in, if damnably fragile. 

It occurred to Arthur that he didn’t want to replace Merlin. But he couldn’t say as much, so he simply continued ordering extra food long after training season passed into winter.

☩

It took what felt like an age, but when Merlin’s royally supplemented diet finally began to stick to his ribs, Arthur’s concern eased. Merlin would never be the most robust man, but rich food suited him. His hair looked fuller, his skin finer, and his collarbones less disturbingly prominent. 

“You’re looking well, Merlin,” Arthur said, oddly proud of Merlin’s bared forearms as he laid the table that night. Merlin shot him an incredulous look. 

“Thank you?” he said.

“As you should.” Arthur took a pull off his goblet. “You came to us a scarecrow. What were they feeding you back home, hay?” He grinned at the sardonic twist to Merlin’s mouth. 

“Hay is a delicacy only reserved for the wealthiest peasants, sire,” he said. 

Arthur sobered, swirling his wine. 

“Dine with me,” he said. Merlin looked up, brow quirked. Arthur strove for a patient tone. “You’ll be taking half of this with you anyway. You may as well eat it while it’s warm.” 

Merlin shrugged like the ungracious wretch he was and sat at Arthur’s right side. But in spite of his insouciance, he only picked at the platters, eating as daintily as a bird. Arthur set down his cutlery, sighing. 

“What?” Merlin said, defensive. 

“You know what! You’re starting to make me think you have poisoned us with the way you’re nibbling crumbs like a woman.” 

“Of course I haven’t!” Merlin said. 

“Then _here_ ,” Arthur said, taking up a fig drizzled in warm honey and holding it out. “Eat.” 

When Merlin didn’t move to take the fig, Arthur caught him by the nape and pressed the fruit to his mouth. 

Merlin’s eyes shocked wide, lips parting to admit Arthur’s fingers between them. Arthur didn’t realise his mistake until Merlin moaned, but it was too late to reconsider the intimacy of his actions when he was already chasing the taste of honey across Merlin’s tongue. 

He hefted Merlin onto the table with single-minded intent, tugging neckerchief and tunic out of the way to get a proper look at Merlin’s lean chest, his sweet-looking nipples. He drew Merlin’s cock out of his trousers and pumped it until the head slipped its sheath, fitting hot in the back of Arthur’s throat like a plump, bitter cherry. 

He tasted until Merlin jerked, crying out — until he was sated, his fingers leaving sticky trails across Merlin’s soft, pale belly.


End file.
